


Pandora's Box

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Bartenders, Crack, Drunkenness, Flirting, Ging Freecs is a bastard, Ging Freecs takes a shower, Hate Sex, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Payback, Robbery, Stalking, Texting, archeology, everyone is terrible, gingkite and paricheadle if you squint, so is Pariston, texting while sexing, this fic has piss jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pariston was a food critic, and Ging was a bartender, could I make it any more obvious? Just kidding. When Ging and Kite are robbing a bar to look for an archelogical artifact that has found its way there, they're greeted by none other than eccentric millionaire Pariston who mistakes Ging for the bartender. Will Ging be able to give him a drink that satisfies his tastes?
Relationships: Ging Freecs & Kaito | Kite, Ging Freecs/Pariston Hill, Pariston Hill & Cheadle Yorkshire
Comments: 34
Kudos: 61





	Pandora's Box

**Author's Note:**

  * For [futiledev](https://archiveofourown.org/users/futiledev/gifts).



> **last warning** this fic involves a few jokes centered around piss, it is not for everyone, and that's okay.

Ging didn’t play by the book.

This was the first thing that Kite knew about the man, or anyone did, really. He knew this when he was signing up for the job. He  _ really _ shouldn’t have been surprised though, when Ging asked him for help robbing one of the fanciest bars in Yorknew. 

Flash back to four hours ago, in their shared hotel room, Ging had covered the entire place in scattered photos and maps. They were relic hunting again, but this time, there wasn’t an archeological site in mind. No, this excavation site had already been ravaged, and all of the goods stolen. Fortunately for the two of them, the archeology nuts that they were, they managed to get a hold of several of the Yorknew auction catalogs. Stolen items tended to show up in the black market auctions, so their target was likely to be there.

“Okay so at this auction, the last owner of Pandora’s Box was said to be-”

“Forget the box,” said Ging, tossing a binder to the side as he flipped through a dusty old book, some pages falling out. “You can’t get the box open unless you have the key. Do you have a steady source on where the box is?”

“No-”

“Well, I have a pretty good idea of where we can find the key, and you’re going to help me with that!” exclaimed Ging. Kite looked over at the clock and squinted at the red numbers displaying “2:09 am”. He rubbed them. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

“I’m actually pretty tired-”

“Here, take a 5 hour energy, then,” said Ging, tossing him one. Kite almost dropped the binder he was holding in order to catch it. “According to one of my sources, word is that Pandora’s Key is being used as a bottle opener at the bar ‘Greed’s Island’. You know what that means, right?”

“We’re going to politely negotiate-”

“We’re robbing the bar! Quick, Kite, do your research, what time does the bar get the least amount of traffic?”

Four ripe hours later, and Kite had successfully disposed of the bartender by using the classic “force your way into the back room and have the bartender angrily chase you while trying to figure out why the fuck you did that, and then whacking them over the head with the fire extinguisher from the wall because you panicked and forgot to bring chloroform” trick. He was  _ totally _ getting banned from another city. But hey, if he and Ging weren’t banned from places, what fun would sneaking in be? 

Ging had made his way behind the bar and tied the bartender apron on himself half assedly. Kite sighed and sat down at the bar. It was  _ just _ closing, or a little after closing time but there were enough slumped over patrons that no one would have guessed. He had done his research and unfortunately this seemed to be the time that the bar was most empty. At least no one new was going to show up, they just had to worry about the current ones. 

“Ah, the ol’ “kidnap the bartender so you can rob the bar” trick, classic,” said a grisled man smoking a pipe. Despite it being both early morning  _ and _ indoors, he was wearing dark sunglasses. He chewed on the end of his pipe before taking another sip of his drink. “Don’t look so surprised, kid, it takes a lot of alcohol to get me drunk. The name’s Morel, by the way.”

“You’re oddly calm about the situation,” said Kite, trying to gauge what this guy was doing. Morel swirled his drink around. 

“I’m waiting for my target to show up,” he said, glancing over at the door. “Whatever stunt you and your little friend are trying to pull off has no impact on my mission.”

“You stay out of our way, we stay out of yours, got it,” said Kite, looking back over to see Ging making a mess of the bar area by trying to look between every single drink to find the key. 

“Does your friend know how to rob bars?”

“He’s doing his best.”

“I heard that,” muttered Ging under his breath. 

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the bar became a lot more sinister when the door opened, letting in the bright rays of dawn on the eyes of the sleepy denizens. Kite shielded his own tired eyes but the light was too bright. The sight he saw before him was even more strange. 

There stood a man, tall, in a sparkly pink suit, who looked like he had wandered in as a lost stage performer from the casino down the road. He was oddly chipper for 6:13 am, but that wasn’t the worst part. He had these big, fearful eyes. And by fearful, that was Kite projecting his own emotions into seeing his reflection from halfway across the room in his dark soulless eyes. 

With him was a woman with green hair wearing a dress who seemed to be using him for help walking. She looked completely and utterly  _ pissed. _ Her eyes shot up and met Kite’s, sending an intent of murder. 

“Pariston Hill, certified wine snob,” said Morel, gesturing over with his pipe. “You better tell your boy behind the bar to hurry up otherwise you’re in for a real treat. No establishment goes unnoticed, the man can taste the exact date the alcohol started fermenting…. By wafting…. You’re gonna run this place out of business… or worse…. Get exposed.”

Kite quickly scribbled some shorthand down onto a piece of paper and pushed it over the edge of the bar, hoping that the rummaging Ging would notice that and get his act together. 

“Pariston Hill…. That name sounds familiar…” said Kite. 

“He’s a millionaire public figure, I think he deals in stocks or something, but maybe it’s drugs, no one really knows where he gets all of his wealth from,” explained Morel. “He’s also been on some magazine covers, and there’s a rumor that if you search hard enough you can even find his mug shot.”

“Who’s the woman?”

“Cheadle Yorkshire. She’s the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. The two of them have appeared in public a few times before, they have some sort of animosity between each other…”

“I wonder if they’re sleeping together,” whispered Kite. 

“I’m about 50/50 as well,” said Morel. The two of them watched as Pariston approached the bar. 

“I’m sure you’re well aware of who I am,” said the sparkly blond man, brushing off the side of his suit and pulling up a seat at the bar. He offered his hand out to Ging, who looked at it, and then scowled slightly. Kite ran his fingers through his hair and hunched down so his elbows were on the bar top. 

“I can’t watch, he’s going to screw this up,” said Kite, trying to distract himself. He needed to keep an eye on the door though, lest their bartender prisoner escape before Ging could find Pandora’s Key. 

“This is exactly what I was waiting for, I lost track of him a few hours ago, but it’s like watching a reality television show for free,” said Morel, nudging Kite so he would look up at the scene before him. “You can’t get better than this.” Ging, trying to find something to do with his hands, settled on grabbing a clean glass and wiping it with a dirty rag to imitate how one might do the dishes.

“Just give me water. I’m tired. I’m fucking wasted. We’ve been travelling around for six hours and he only takes one  _ fucking _ sip of each drink,” slurred Cheadle, who was definitely sick of this shit. 

“Then why are you drunk?” asked Ging. Kite facepalmed. 

“I don’t like wasting money, I finished the rest of them,” Cheadle said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ging filled up the glass he was holding and handed it to her, and after taking a swig of it, her forehead hit the bar counter. 

“What is going on….” murmured Kite under his breath. 

“I’ve been in Yorknew for a full week,” prefaced Pariston, sitting uncomfortably still in his chair. “And to be quite honest, I’ve been rather disappointed in the drink selection. I’ve been saving this fine establishment for last, as the reviews say that it’s…. Five star… though I don’t like rating things on a star system, because five stars implies complete and utter perfection. I hear this and say to myself, ‘Pariston, if a five is perfect, and nothing is perfect, we should just use a four star system!’ But then I run into the same problem, as four becomes the new five, and-”

“Can I take your order?” deadpanned Ging, eyeball twitching. Pariston covered his mouth with his hand and looked over to Cheadle for a shocked reaction only to see her sleeping on the counter. 

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, mind my manners. May I take your fucking order?” asked Ging. 

“Hm, vulgarity, not something I would expect from such an establishment,” said Pariston, tapping his fingers together. “What’s popular here? Do you have a menu?”

“No.”

“Interesting choice,” said Pariston, cocking his head to the side as if he were the judge, jury, and executioner, looking for a fresh victim on which to test out his skills. “I guess that means you know your patrons well. Tell me, what’s popular here?”

“Oh, we’re fucked,” whispered Kite. 

Ging was no man to panic. In fact, he had panicked exactly once in his life before, and that was when his credit card got cancelled for “suspicious purchases” when he tried to buy soap. If Pariston wanted a special drink, there was no way he could guess what it was just on the name, especially since he wasn’t even sure what was  _ in _ most drinks, being a “straight-from-the-bottle whiskey chugger” like he was. He had to outsmart Pariston, and fast. 

“You don’t want our most popular drink, do you,” said Ging, “A man of your tastes wouldn’t like what the common folk see fit, would he?”

“Could it be that you’re putting yourself down so I lower my expectations and grade you lighter?” chuckled Pariston, giving Cheadle a little glance. She just tapped the drink and Ging filled it up with more water. 

“You wish,” said Ging, flashing a shit eating grin. “I see a man of your caliber seems so much more….refined, sophisticated, I have just the thing for you.” Ging gave Kite the “fucking do something”-eyes, and Kite quickly sprung to action. 

“Are you, Pariston Hill?” asked Kite. Pariston’s neck snapped around 90 degrees and the rest of his body didn’t turn. Kite felt himself getting uncomfortable the closer he got to this weird man but he mellowed his expression. 

“Not at this hour,” mused Pariston, giving Kite the good ol’ look up and down. “I’m off the books. At the wee hour of the morning, society has paused, giving me free reign to dominate the area with my presence. Anyone awake right now has a story. Why are you awake now? Clearly, you haven’t slept.” 

Kite opened up his mouth to talk but Pariston silenced him.

“I don’t care, no reason you give me will ever be worth my time,” said Pariston. Kite doubted that despite being here for the hyper specific reason of robbing a bar to look for a specific historical artifact, Pariston would care to hear. 

Meanwhile, Ging sighed with relief that Pariston was thoroughly distracted. He scanned his eyes over all of the liqueurs and flavors before him. He could just pick a random combination, but his overwhelming hatred for Pariston grew the more that bastard talked. He had such a way with words, and that way being completely and utterly obnoxious. “Wine snob” was more like it. Ging hadn’t met a food critic he liked before. In fact, the only one he’d met was Pariston. Didn’t matter, because he hated him. He was getting what he deserved. Ging poured one part vodka into a glass then turned around, hoping that Cheadle didn’t see him. 

Talk shit, get hit.

Ging swirled around the drink before zipping up his pants and slammed it down on the counter. Kite shot him a “thank you” nod and sat back down in his seat before looking over at the door to make sure their prisoner hadn’t escaped. 

Pariston looked down at the drink, and smiled. 

“Hmm I missed what drinks you put into this, I’m going to be surprised, aren’t I?” asked Pariston. 

“That was my intent,” said Ging, trying not to smirk at the idea of Pariston taking a sip of this drink. If he had the capacity to care for other people, he would have felt bad that the woman with him was probably going to have to finish the rest of it. “Nothing but respect for a true man of culture.”

“Oh please, your flattery will get you nowhere, but let’s see where this gets you,” said Pariston, wrapping his elongated yaoi fingers around the curvature of the glass. “What’s it called?”

“I call it….” Ging scanned the room before spotting  _ the _ bottle opener in one of the passed out drunks’ hands. Mission accomplished. But shit, he couldn’t get sidetracked now, he needed to subdue Pariston. Suddenly, it clicked. “Pandora’s Box.”

“Interesting,” said Pariston, taking a waft of the yellow alcohol. “Tell me, is there any lore behind it? Surely it didn’t get such a name for nothing.”

“It’s a forbidden treat for your tastebuds, shrouded in mystery,” bluffed Ging, waving his hands around sarcastically. “It’s as if you’re unleashing flavors not known to mortal man upon your pallet.”

“There’s no way this is going to work-” Kite muttered under his breath, but Pariston was just eating this up. 

“Oh I can tell, the way these fumes admix together is quite bewitching, wouldn’t you say, Cheadle?” asked Pariston, offering Cheadle a sniff of his drink. Cheadle turned her nose up at it and rested her head in her hands. 

“I can smell it from here, it smells like…..” fortunately Cheadle was too drunk to finish her sentence and proceeded to basically fall asleep again at the counter. 

“Though it is an odd name for a drink, you have encapsulated my attention,” said Pariston, giving a cheeky grin. “I’ll let you in on a little secret there, while this might be your version of Pandora’s Box, I possess something far more grand.” 

“Oh?” asked Ging, looking Pariston up and down. He looked rich. It was possible that he could have been the purchaser of the Pandora’s Box artifact he was after. Pariston made eye contact with Ging the whole time as he took a sip. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened, he pulled the glass away after pumping a long thick sip of the ambrosia past his luscious lips and down his throat. Well, ambrosia is a strong word. Though Pariston was not one to know immediately that the drink was something much more insidious: piss vodka. 

“The absolute flavors, the mingling, the chemistry, this is…” Pariston wiped his mouth before holding the glass up to his ear so he could hear the liquid swashling around. “It’s absolutely phenomenal, stellar, please, sir, you have to tell me what mixture this is.” Pariston brought up the drink to his mouth to take a second sip. 

“In all the years I’ve been observing him, he never does this,” said Morel. “Whatever your friend did, it was something special.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t cause us more trouble than it’s worth,” said Kite. Pariston finished his second sip of the drink and set it back down on the table, his eyes wide and dreamy. 

“It’s got a muskier feel, but I can definitely taste the vodka within it, it’s smooth to pass, but also has a burning feel when it gets deeper into my throat, and the flavors, well, I definitely get an interesting aftertaste when it sticks to the back of my throat, it feels...dry? Absolutely exquisite, I must try another sip,” said Pariston, going in for a third sip. Morel spit out his drink  _ and _ simultaneously dropped his pipe. 

“What the hell did Ging put in that drink,” muttered Kite.Though, it was definitely better for him not to know.

“Four o’clock,” wrote Ging on a napkin while Pariston was sipping the drink. Kite turned to the right and behind him and spotted his target. A drunk man sleeping holding a bottle opener. Upon closer squint, it was Pandora’s Key! They had found it. Kite quickly tiptoed over towards the man to verify, and once he did, he quickly took it. 

“My shift is ending,” said Ging, looking over at Pariston. “I’d say this is on the house, but, I already gave it to you on the rocks, so-”

“Please, sir, take this instead,” said Pariston, whipping out a pen and writing some digits down on a napkin. He handed it to Ging, who was already starting to book it out of the bar. 

“I’d say this mission was a success,” said Ging, on the taxi ride back to their hotel room. “We got the key, and-”

“That was an absolute shitshow,” groaned Kite. 

“Pariston has Pandora’s Box.”

“He has  _ what _ ? Oh, there’s no way we’re getting it off him,” sighed Kite. Ging clicked his tongue. 

“But you see, Kite, all was not lost, for I have obtained something valuable,” said Ging, holding out the piece of paper with Pariston’s number on it. 

“Oh, so we can give him a call and-”

“I’m going to track his cellphone and find out where he lives,” said Ging, who looked about as eager as a kid in a candy shop. Kite sighed again and shook his head. He couldn’t wait until they got back so that he could take a nice long nap. 

Turns out…. Pariston doesn’t stay in one place very well. After using some special software to track down where Pariston was making calls and getting notifications, he didn’t spend more than a few hours at any location….. For over a week. Ging was getting frustrated. He was going to have to take measures into his own hands. 

On the flipside of things, Pariston was having the absolute worst time of his life. He was sprawled out on one of his long couches, arm across his forehead, and complaining about everything and anything to Cheadle. 

“I fear I will waste away, my body craves none other,” murmured Pariston, wiping his face off with one of the cooling rags he had prepared. “I’m peckish, famished, absolutely disgraced.”

“Stop being so dramatic, there’s no way a single drink could-”

“Cheadle, you don’t know what I’m going through, you haven’t graced your palette with such complimentary flavors,” um actually’d Pariston. “This is between me and that mysterious man we met.”

“I can’t believe I’m suggesting this…. But why don’t you call up the bar and ask around for him?” asked Cheadle. “And can we  _ please _ get back to the meeting? We need to divy up all of the stock portfolios for our shareholders, and-”

“How can I do work when I’m not in tiptop shape, I must quench my thirst. I’ll be back,” said Pariston, grabbing his coat and leaving the room. Cheadle rolled her eyes when the door shut. 

It was as if he was doing it on purpose. Ging watched as Pariston’s phone was placed in the same spot for over two hours, a feat he hadn’t seen all weekend. This was the perfect time to approach him and hatch his plan like an egg. Hopefully he wouldn’t scramble it. 

Of course their meeting had to be in an alleyway, Pariston couldn’t go anywhere too crowded lest he be recognized. Ging spotted him immediately, as he hadn’t even bothered to change out of one of his suits. This one was a dark teal plaid, even uglier than the last. 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” said Pariston, narrowing his eyes. The edge of his wide mouth curled up slightly, in a way that made him seem almost reptilian. “I couldn’t get over how marvelous that drink you made me was, I was absolutely taken by the aroma, my taste buds have since lusted for no other flavors so strong and distinct. They were, how to say it,  _ thoroughly, _ entertained. The absolute balance of the undertones was phenomenal, but… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Nothing I have tasted before has bore any semblance to what you gave to me. I had to find out what it was that you made. So I called the bar where you worked, and well, care to fill me in?”

“I’m sure if you called the bar, you don’t need to be filled in, do you?” said Ging, tipping the rim of his hat as he leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms and tilted his chin up, as Pariston was quite a few inches taller than him. “I’d say I’m flattered that you felt the need to bring such trivial things up to have conversation with me, but that’s a lie.”

“Acknowledgement of the flattery tells me nothing about if it worked or not,” said Pariston, resting his arm above Ging’s head on the wall and leaning in closer in a kabedon type position. His soulless eyes showed no discernible emotion. “I’m not just interested in the drink. Normal people don’t rob a bar in broad daylight.”

“I’m anything but normal.”

“I’d hope so, for I’d hate to waste my time talking to someone who wasn’t interesting.”

“If you’ll excuse me, that’s the reason I have to take my leave,” said Ging, moving to leave, but Pariston blocked his exit by moving his arm down to the side. 

“You don’t want me to leave,” said Pariston, leaning in even closer. “I know you’ve been tracking my phone.”

“I let you know so that you’d show yourself sooner,” whispered Ging into Pariston’s ear, getting close enough that he could see Pariston’s plastic expression falter at the smell of his unbrushed teeth. “Every time you think you’ve outsmarted me, I’m already three steps ahead.”

“You may have caught me there, for whatever reason have you been seeking me? Surely I myself am not the object of your desire, am I?” If Ging didn’t know better, he would have thought the slight crack in Pariston’s voice was from insecurity instead of revulsion from smelling his swamp stench. But Pariston was both too arrogant and too cleanly for him to make that connection. 

“I’d like…. To stick my key into Pandora’s Box…,” Ging said, biting his lip as he looked Pariston in the eyes. He slowly drifted them downwards, sizing them up along the rest of his body. “To see what’s really on the inside, and if it’s all as special as everyone says it is. Things are forbidden for a reason, but I need to know why. Sometimes I just need to take the initiative and go for it.”

“How verbose, you have such a way with words,” said Pariston, taking a lock of Ging’s greasy hair that was poking out of his hat and twirling it in his finger. “Perhaps I could…. Satisfy your curiosity, but there’s always a price for something.”

“Want me to make you my special drink?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I want to get… the full experience,” said Ging, grabbing onto Pariston’s suit and pulling him closer. “I want to see everything, who you are, I want this to be personal. Open yourself up and let me in. I want to understand you.” 

“Then I’ll take you back to my place, none of this impersonal hotel business,” said Pariston, brushing the back of his hand against Ging’s stubble. Ging grinned, but only because his plan was working. “But for a price.”

“Of what?”

“I’ll let you decide, what’s something you think is worth something?”

“Ging,” said Ging, giving Pariston a little kiss on his long yaoi fingers. “That’s my name. See, I can open up too.”

“You’re just making me realize now that I’ve gone this long without knowing your name, but who’s to blame, it’s not every day that someone piques my interest,” mused Pariston, his soulless eyes softening a little bit. 

“What are names other than things we use to identify and reference each other,” said Ging. “We could continue this  _ enthralling _ chat later, though, couldn’t we?”

“Ah, yes, after we’ve satisfied our curiosity,” said Pariston, pulling Ging off the wall and dipping him, their lips mingling together in a tantalizing kiss. “If I may ask just one more question, why are you homeless?”

“Eh?”

“So sorry if that was rude of me. Just kidding,” said Pariston, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… you’re wearing the same clothes as the night we met, you haven’t showered, and I can’t find a permanent address for you.”

“You didn’t even know my name!”

“Right but one of the real estate companies I own uses facial recognition to match people to houses and-”

“That’s terrifying.”

“It’s the future,” said Pariston, smirking. “Anyways, I digress. You were also robbing the bar that night, weren’t you?”

“And what of it? Can’t a man just rob a bar for fun.”  
“You’re becoming more interesting by the second, let’s head back before you say something that ruins it for me.”

The two of them made it to Pariston’s penthouse suite at the top of one of the Yorknew towers. Hopefully this was the suite where he was keeping Pandora’s Box, otherwise Ging would be fucked. Literally. 

“So, I’m thirsty,” said Pariston, leaning seductively on his sprawl couch. Ging used this time to scan the room for his object of desire. It wasn’t in the room. Damn, he’d have to search the whole place. 

“Well, seems like we have something in common,” said Ging, running his hand up Pariston’s thigh. “Though, this room is rather…. Bland. It lacks character.” Pariston looked at him, offended. 

“Why, I have paintings from so many famous painters here, you know, these are one of a kinds, you can’t get them anywhere else-”

“I don’t care, I don’t like them,” pouted Ging. Pariston pursed his lips and then glanced over towards the bedroom.

“We could take this affair…. Elsewhere…. But I must say, Ging, I want that drink you made me-”

“Shh, I’ll have you work up an appetite so it tastes better later,” said Ging, grabbing Pariston by the wrist to bring him into the bedroom. Was he really going to have sex with a guy he absolutely despised just so he could take a peek into the bedroom for a historical artifact he wanted to steal? Yes. 

Meanwhile, Kite was back in the hotel room, debating whether or not to give Ging a call. Ever since he had left the room to go find Pariston, he hadn’t sent a single update. Hopefully that meant everything was going well so he didn’t need to check in, but knowing Ging, this could equally mean that he was in a lot of trouble. Kite picked up his cellphone and hesitated, hovering over the call button. Oh well, he might as well. 

The phone rang twice before Ging picked up. 

“Ging?” asked Kite.

“Y-yeah.. Kite is there…. hnnng …. Is there an… issue... _ fuck _ ”

“Pardon my intrigue, but Ging, are you having  _ sex _ ?!?!!?”

“Ging, who’s that?” said an unmistakable voice over the other side of the line belonging to none other than Pariston Hill himself. 

“Kite… one second….” 

Suddenly the call was dropped. Kite felt as if he needed to scrub his ears out with sandpaper in order to clean them from what he just heard. Suddenly, a text bubble popped up next to Ging’s name.

**Ging** : Hey, what’s up?

**Kite** : Was just wondering how the mission was going….. I see you’re busy….. Check in later….

Kite sent the message and put the phone down.

**Ging** : I found the box.

**Ging** : It’s sitting on his dresser

**Ging** : omg KITE

**Ging** : you’d never believe it but

**Ging** : He’s such a fking pillow princess

**Ging** : Literally he just lies here

**Ging** : I’m riding him 

**Ging** : Not bad tbh

**Ging** : 4/10

**Ging** : Kite?

**Ging** : I hope I don’t have to spend the night here

**Ging** : He has all these creepy paintings of ant-human animorph stuff. I’d say I hate it but I’m weirdly aroused by it.

Kite glanced over at his phone that had been blowing up for the past few minutes. He was never calling Ging on a mission ever again.

**Kite** : Ging…. Please stop texting me while you’re…. Having sex….

**Ging** : >:P

Ging scowled and put the phone away. He really needed to stop skipping leg day. He had won the rock paper scissors for who got to bottom, but didn’t realize one crucial fact: Pariston was too pampered to actually do anything during sex. Fortunately, Ging was close to climax… or….

“I think I’m gonna cum-OH FUCK!”

The two of them froze. Ging had released a load. But not of cum. Pariston shielded his face from the sprinkles before it hit him full force. Ging had heard of people being able to stop pissing on command before. Heard of. It didn’t work.

“I… uh….” Ging grabbed a towel off the bed and started to mop up the mess, still sitting on Pariston. Pariston grabbed his wrist. “Look, I didn’t mean to, I guess I just have a bit of performance anxiety and-” Ging was pulling lies out of his ass when he should have been pulling something else out. 

“Ging.”

“I’d pay for new sheets but these look like expensive silk and it’s out of my budget-”

“GING,” said Pariston, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him in for a kiss. Ging mentally screamed when he tasted Pariston’s piss tainted lips and pulled away as soon as he could. 

“Augh, ack,” coughed Ging, trying to rid the bitter taste from his mouth. “What was that f-” Suddenly, his attention was directed to where he was sitting.  _ Oh. _

“That drink you made me,” slurred Pariston, his body in a postorgasmic laze. “That was your piss, wasn’t it?”

“...Yeah,” said Ging, his cheeks burning a bright red. He didn’t know what to say next. He hadn’t foreseen a possible future where Pariston would make the connection by tasting his piss in an unrelated context. His lips pushed into a pout. 

“D’you have a job…” asked Pariston, softly, reaching over to grab Ging to bring him closer but being too lazy to move any closer. 

“Yes, I have a job,” said Ging, a bit pissed off at the implication that Pariston was asking him this question to propose to him to pimp himself out. “Do you? That’s the real question.” Pariston stuck his tongue out at him, and then proceeded to use one of the towels to finally get the remaining bits of piss off him. 

“Hey, Ging, quick question, when’s the last time you’ve showered?”

“Hmm….”

“You have to  _ think _ about it?”

“I dunno, I don’t really trust hotel showers, and I’ve been in Yorknew for a week and a half and-”

“Ging,” said Pariston, folding his hands together which really emphasized the sheer length and knobbiness of his gangly yaoi fingers. “If you join me in the shower, I’ll let you pee on me.” Ging’s jaw dropped. 

“Hah?”

“I mean, I assume you’ll need to drink more water, but that can be arranged, and we’d be killing two birds with one stone-”

“ _ Let _ implies that you’re not into it,” said Ging, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like a little bit of projection there.”

“You’re the one who put piss in my drink in the first place,” said Pariston, crossing his arms. “Seems like you’re the one pushing your kinks onto everyone else.”

“I put piss in your drink because I wanted to fuck with you.” Ging scrunched up his nose as Pariston felt up his inner thigh. 

“No, you put it there because you wanted to fuck me, and look where it got you,” Pariston said, giving Ging a little squeeze.   
“Pariston Hill, I fucking hate you.”  
“Oh, don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”

“I wasn’t worried, you’ve made that very clear.”

“So are we going to have shower sex or-”

“Honestly, I  _ am _ due for a shower,” said Ging, getting up off the bed and making himself a few glasses of water before joining Pariston in the shower. This one was off the books for sure. 

A few hours later, Kite heard a knock on the hotel room door. He quickly opened it, as Ging almost collapsed into the room. 

“I got the fucking box,” said Ging, handing it off to Kite, who gave him an awkward smile. He then flopped down onto the bed face first and screamed into his pillow. “The things I do for this stupid museum collection.”

“Hey, at least we completed it,” said Kite, giving Ging a little rub on the shoulder. “We’ll probably get some special recognition at the museum, how’d you like that, being famous for once.”

“I suppose. I can’t wait to see Pariston’s stupid face when he finds out that one of his artifacts is going to be on public display,” said Ging, turning over so he was on his back. He sighed. “I still can’t believe the past week we’ve had. That was wack.”

“I’m sure there were easier ways to get the box, you could have just…. Purchased it off him? Or convinced him to donate it so that he could write it off on his tax forms,” said Kite, listing off the various ways that Ging could have gone about this besides fucking Pariston for a chance to steal it from him. 

“Where’s the fun in that, though,” said Ging, looking over at the box and the key. “Aren’t we supposed to enjoy the little detours to life?”

“Want to open the box?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Kite slid the key into the lock and breathed a sigh of relief as it slipped in perfectly well. To think, such a historical artifact was being used as a bottle opener. The two of them held their breaths as they turned the key, and the box opened. 

“There’s a….key?”

“That bastard must have known I was after the box and found some way to open it,” moaned Ging as he flopped down backwards onto the bed. “Whatever was really in there is probably lost to mankind if it can be opened without this stupid key.” He took the key out of the box, and noticed it had a little note on it written in Pariston’s cursive handwriting. 

“Three steps ahead…? I doubt it. Call me, XOXO,” Ging read outloud. “Fuck.”

“At least we can seal it up and donate it to the collection-”

“Kite, what does this mean, he gave me his house key?!”

“I…. I don’t know,” said Kite. He sniffed the air. “Did you  _ shower _ ?” Ging ran his hand through his hair. 

“Oh, yeah, I did,” said Ging, giving Kite a little grin. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“I fucking hope that wasn’t the first time you showered. Though now that I think about it….”

“I’m down if you’re down,” said Ging, trying to change the topic from his uncleanliness. “But not now, I’m exhausted.”

“I’m going to pretend you’re talking about showering and hope you take your word for it,” said Kite, putting Pandora’s Box and Key in one of their archeology boxes so they could safely transport it to the museum. He sighed and looked over at Ging. He really did unleash something that should have stayed locked up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friends who like making piss jokes. I've stolen all of your pariging headcanons and added them to my collection so now they're in the fic, congrats ;3
> 
> Comments fuel me to keep creating content so if you like the kind of stuff I put out, please let me know!


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